The Forgotten Eden (29 page)

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Authors: Aiden James

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Horror, #Dark Fantasy, #Fantasy

BOOK: The Forgotten Eden
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Jack motioned to the door, and Peter followed his gaze, anxious. Obviously, this wasn’t the reaction the agent thought he would get. Before Peter could stop him, Jack headed for the door, pounding on its unforgiving cold steel surface once he got there and shouting for someone to come let him out. Peter dropped his journal on the table and ran after him, grabbing his arm to pull him away from the door.


Jack!
Damn it,
stop!!”
he pleaded, moving up into Jack’s face. “I’m the only one here who can help you—the
only
one you can
trust!”


I’m

not

CRAZY!!!”

Jack mustered every ounce of malice within him as he glared at Peter, his eyes morphing from hazel to a brighter green. Peter flinched.


I know, man—I know you’re not crazy!” Peter assured him. “That was
never
my point…. I believe in you. I wouldn’t have bothered to drive two hours up here to spend the evening with you if I didn’t!”

Jack’s fury lessened, just slightly.


You and I share a common experience with this thing, this Genovene creature from our mutual past,” continued Peter, his tone compassionate...pleading. “What happened to you and Bobby might be a little different from each other. But, in the end you know and I know that this thing is still out there someplace, waiting to strike again.”

Peter studied his face for confirmation, and Jack nodded this was true.


Like I told you earlier, man, you and I share the same hell,” said Peter, his voice just above a whisper. “You won’t find a better ally anywhere—definitely not here. I’m the guy who has your best interests at heart. You’ve got to trust me, Jack.”

The irises in Peter’s eyes deepened toward cobalt. An indication of his sincerity? He stepped back to the table and motioned for Jack to rejoin him there. Jack studied him in silence after he picked up his chair, and continued to watch the agent as he sat down again. Peter repositioned the recorder that had almost been knocked off the table and sat back in his chair.


There’s quite a bit of material to confirm most of what you’ve described so far, Jack,” said Peter, picking up his latest journal and paging to a paper-clipped section. “Like the temple you described. Many legends throughout the world describe similar golden structures. Even the name ‘Genovene’ has been referred to in several medieval documents as a demonic entity. Furthermore, your description of the ‘villagers’ matches alien life forms I’ve studied, and your angel is almost identical to several accounts we have on file in Richmond.”


There’s more,” said Jack, lifting his gaze to meet Peter’s. Wary now that something else might happen to raise his ire again, he couldn’t help himself. The release of painful secrets trapped inside for so long proved too cathartic to give up just yet.


I know,” Peter replied, his smile almost impish.


But, if there’s anymore talk about my past, as it relates to my state of mind…. I swear that’ll be it for what I’ve got to say.”


I promise, Jack. I
really
want to hear the rest of your story…your incredible adventure!”


Okay. Be forewarned there’s wilder shit to come. Though there’ll be no more trees with sinister faces,’ said Jack, releasing a subdued chuckle.


I’d love to hear it.”


And you’re sure?”


Yes
!
That’s why I’m here.”

Jack waited to resume his tale until after he visited the restroom. Once finished, Peter did likewise, musing aloud on the similar affects of coffee and Coke. He grabbed one more steaming cup of coffee and rejoined Jack at the table.


Would you prefer water, or anything else?” offered Peter, once Jack waved off another soda. “How’s your stomach holding out? If you’re about to describe another of your grandpa’s home cooked meals, I’m not sure
I’ll
be able to wait until your story’s finished, Jack!”


Well, I believe I won’t be able to do my story justice without at least one more trip to Grandpa’s kitchen,” said Jack, grinning at the thought. “I’ll try not to spend too long on describing food, though.”


I’d certainly appreciate it!” Peter teased, raising his cup in mock salute. “All right, I’m ready to hear what happened next.”


So good to be home again,” said Jack, resuming where he left off. “As soon as I entered the back porch door and smelled the pot roast simmering on the stove, I felt safe and secure at last. Jeremy continued an endless barrage of questions he’d launched at me from the moment I was within earshot of the porch steps. My answers brief and to the point, when I mentioned my trip to the golden village his response was a derisive snicker. Sick of his dismissive sarcasm, I ended the interrogation right there. Leaving him standing in disbelief at my own brash indifference, I headed upstairs.


I trudged up the old staircase, scarcely aware of the usual spookiness. I didn’t even think about it until I’d already reached my bedroom and removed the grimy clothes from my tired and sore body, throwing them in the upstairs hamper on the way to the bathroom. About the time my grandfather entered the house after giving Banjo his bath, I stepped into the shower, allowing warm jets of water and soap to rinse the dirt and fatigue away, soothing my injuries. When the water’s temperature had gotten noticeably colder, I stepped out of the shower feeling refreshed enough to face Grandpa and Jeremy. I dressed and moved gingerly downstairs, suffering from soreness that’d only get worse. Jeremy met me at the foot of the staircase.

“‘
So, what really happened, Jackie?’ he demanded. ‘It’d be wiser for you to just ‘fess up. And, please...spare me the bullshit about some ‘golden village’ this time. ‘Think you can handle that, peckerhead—’

“‘
Lay off him, son!’ Grandpa intervened. ‘Let Jack eat something first, for God’s sake! He’s obviously got some explaining to do, and I’m sure we’ll get the story of what happened in due time. Now, come on over to the dinner table, ya’ll. Supper’s waiting and it’ll get cold soon.’


Jeremy regarded me suspiciously before relenting to Grandpa’s words. He led the way to the kitchen and we all converged on the table. Famished, since the fudge cookie was the last thing I’d eaten, I literally shook when I pulled my chair out from the table. I used the rest of my energy to sit down and pull myself up to my plate. Observing my condition, Grandpa placed some roast, creamed potatoes, and steamed vegetables onto my plate, and then buttered a piece of warm bread, giving that to me as well.


As usual, there wasn’t much conversation at the dinner table, though Grandpa and Jeremy briefly discussed the remarkable progress the firefighters made with the dwindling fire in the woods. After that, an awkward and tense silence pervaded the overall mood. My brother and grandfather kept a watchful eye on me throughout our meal. Both were anxious to hear my story, regardless of what Jeremy had said.


The flashing red lights from the fire trucks parked on the other side of the backyard’s wall flickered eerily in the evening’s deepening darkness, their reflections dancing on the kitchen walls as they trickled through the back porch door and kitchen windows. Frankly, the emergency lights being visible at all surprised me, given the truck’s location and the obstructions of the wall and oak tree. It presented a grim reminder of what’d happened that day.

“‘
Jack...
Jack
!
Snap out of it, son!’ Grandpa jolted my mind back to the present. ‘Go on and finish eating so you can tell us what’s been going on with you.’


He stood up and my normally aversive brother joined him in the early stages of clearing off the table.

“‘
Do you want any dessert, Jack?’ Grandpa asked. “I baked an apple pie if you’d be interested in having any.’

“‘
No thanks, Grandpa,’ I said. ‘I think I’ve finished eating.’


I felt much better, and not to be outdone by Jeremy, I stood up and brought my dishes over to the sink.

“‘
I might have some later.’

“‘
That’ll be fine, son.’


Grandpa motioned for Jeremy and me to go on into the living room. He planned to join us after he cleared the dinner table first. Jeremy waited for me to walk with him, which I wasn’t too keen about after the ruthless interrogation I’d endured earlier. He didn’t say anything this time.


When Grandpa joined us, he switched on the overhead lights so we could all clearly see each other.

“‘
Make yourselves comfortable on the sofa, boys.’


We took our usual places on either end of the sofa. My brother turned toward me, and I could feel his heavy stare while I gazed down at the floor. Grandpa brought his recliner over to where it directly faced me and then sat down. After a moment he spoke.

“‘
Okay, Jack, let’s have it,” he said. “I’d prefer that you start from the beginning and work your way from there. Oh, and Jeremy.
Please
don’t interrupt your brother, all right, son?’


Jeremy shrugged his shoulders and offered a half smile. I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Then I began speaking about my incredible adventure. Easier to tell the tale than I’d figured it’d be, at some points I lacked the words to adequately describe what I’d seen and gone through. I told them everything. Everything, except for my intimate encounter with Genovene. Until this evening, I’d never shared that with anyone, hoping someday it’d be as good as forgotten. Since that’s never happened, I guess you’re as good an audience as anyone, I reckon. Besides, you asked me to tell you as much as I possibly could. Hopefully it wasn’t more than you bargained for.”


Absolutely not,” assured Peter. “On the contrary, sharing your most personal experiences in regard to all this gives me deeper insight into what this monster is truly like. You couldn’t ask for a more appreciative audience. Trust me.”


Okay, then,” said Jack. “Jeremy surprised me in that he did manage to contain himself this time. At some points of the story, he looked genuinely impressed by what I described, though never frightened by the scarier stuff I talked about. He remained seated for the duration of the tale; smoking the last few cigarettes from the scrunched-up pack in his shirt pocket.


Grandpa also gave his full attention to me, listening quietly in his chair and occasionally puffing on the pipe he’d lit soon after I began. He seemed a bit more sad than usual, especially when I related information about my parents and Allyson, the little girl from the village. He raised his eyebrows and puckered the side of his mouth on his pipe, nodding his head, as if those particular points really captured his interest.


Once I finished, we all sat in silence. Grandpa finally stood and walked over to a row of portraits hanging on the living room wall, depicting my grandmother and us, along with a larger family photograph that included our parents. Jeremy and I followed him with our eyes until my brother grew restless.

“‘
Well, Jackie. I suppose I owe you an apology for giving you a hard time about your golden village, man,’ he said. ‘I have to hand it to you, regardless of how much of what you told us is true or not, that was a good story. An interesting and
damned
good story, I’d say! There’s just some parts that are pretty hard to believe, and would take some ‘seeing’ before I could believe it all.’


I nodded, pleased he found any of what I said relevant, and in complete shock he’d actually apologized to me. By my count, only the second time in my life he’d ever done that. He let me know he wasn’t finished talking yet, so I encouraged him to go on.

“‘
But that bizarre fire today, and the goddamned thing you brought in here last night...the talisman? I saw those things with my own eyes, and to be honest with you, Jackie, I may have seen something myself last night. I could’ve sworn I saw a light glowing out in the woods when I got myself a drink before I went to bed. Gold and misty, it seemed to get brighter by the second.

“‘
Grandpa was out cold by then, snoring in the recliner. I woke him up and told him what I saw. We both ran out to the back porch to take a look, but whatever it was vanished by then. It just fucking disappeared, so I haven’t got any proof. I’m pretty sure it
was
there, though I guess it could’ve been an optical illusion or some shit like that.’


He shrugged his shoulders and opened a brand new pack of cigarettes, tapping out a fresh cancer-stick. He placed it between his teeth while he searched for his lighter.

“‘
I saw it too, Jeremy,’ I said.


Grandpa turned around to look at me, and Jeremy dropped the virgin cigarette out of his mouth, wearing perhaps the closest thing to true surprise we’d likely ever see on his face.

“‘
I saw it when I went to bed and looked out my window last night,’ I explained. “I watched it until it died down. But ya’ll were still awake downstairs. Grandpa even called upstairs to make sure I was all right.’

“‘
Wait a minute,’ said Jeremy, looking confused. ‘You went to bed before midnight, if I remember correctly. I saw the light around one or one-thirty. Hell, it could’ve even been a little later.’

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